I Wanna Be
by ghetto.queen13
Summary: NOT DISCONTINUED, BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS! PLEASE FIND MY NEW ACCOUNT: written rhapsody!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No, I do not have the pleasure in owning the Harry Potter world, but yes, I own you all. Jks Jks.

Author's Note: First Story, lots of romance, but enough action to keep you sane.

  

A ghost of a smile was etched on his lips as he succeeded in making the potion. It bubbled a frivolous gold before settling into a pale lavender colour.

"Impressive, Draco," said Snape. Draco looked up at his Potions master, pleased at the praise. He noticed a movement at his right. It was that insufferable mudblood Granger. Her face was etched with a scowl of disappointment, clearly because she had not completed the assignment first. She glanced across the many tables between them. Draco sneered, his lip curling in disgust. Hermione frowned, her expression hardening, and packed up her potions kit.

Draco did the same. He looked up to see Hermione whispering instructions to Longbottom out of the corner of her mouth. The idiot had managed to make his potion curdle, though it was somewhat the right colour. Draco snickered to himself.

"Granger!" Draco's voice echoed through the hallways. Hermione's face set itself into a look of steely indifference before she turned around to face him.

"I'm disappointed, Granger," smirked Draco. "I never thought that I could beat an – oh, what was it that Snape called you? Oh yeah, an _insufferable know-it-all_."

The many Slytherins around them began to laugh while Ron began yelling abuse. Harry held him back, his own green eyes flashing with something like malice and disgust thrown together.

Hermione, however, looked annoyingly calm. She threw a look of pure disgust at Draco, and beckoned to Harry and Ron. They looked at her, waiting for an outburst or at least a minor hex, but it never came. They shrugged, threw equally revolted looks at Draco before trudging away.

_Stupid mudblood. Couldn't even think up a line against me._

Draco motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him. They did without any hesitation and the trio made their way to the Slytherin Common Room. Draco heard an all-too-familiar shrieking as he entered the room.

"_DRAKIE!!_"

Draco groaned inwardly, and turned to face Pansy Parkinson. She was thin and tall, somewhat like a bean pole, but her face was ugly and squashed. She reminded Draco of a mutant pug dog.

Muttering something about an unfinished potions essay, Draco slipped around the annoying girl and made his way out of the Common Room. He wandered the halls for a bit before slipping into an empty classroom.

He pulled out his wand and began to practice transfiguration. It actually came in handy sometimes, as surprising as it seemed. With a flick of his wand a chair was turned into a wineglass. Another flick resulted in a beautiful songbird. It fluffed up its blue and gold feathers and took to the sky through the open window.

"Well, there goes a chair," Draco muttered. He sauntered out of the classroom, leaving behind a shining wineglass and two missing chairs.

He was walking through the maze of corridors on the fourth floor when he heard the faint strains of music. He walked quietly to the source and stopped outside the door of a seemingly empty classroom.

Now he was close enough to hear the words of the song.

…_Here we are all alone in this room … And girl I know where to start and what we gonna do…_

He hadn't heard it before. Draco slowly pushed the door, which silently swung slightly open. He squinted at the person who was in the room. She was sitting on a desk, on the far side of the room, leaning on the wall. She was reading an indescribably large book listening to music. The lighting in the room was good so Draco could see the occupant clearly.

_What the hell is Granger doing here?_

The answer was obvious. She was listening to music and reading a book of immense proportions. It was just that Draco wondered why she was here instead of in the Griffindor Common Room.

Draco watched as there was a pecking at the window. Hermione turned to open it, and in flew the songbird that Draco had conjured up earlier. Draco watched as Hermione smiled and beckoned to the bird with her hard. It cocked its head then hopped forwards. It chirruped a song, rubbed its head against Hermione's finger and flew out the window. Draco watched its silhouette fade quickly into the darkening night.

He shook his head. His eyes were itchy, and it dawned on him that he was irritatingly tired. He dragged himself away from the room, promising himself he would get time to irritate the Granger girl tomorrow, when he was not so tired and able to execute his witty comments without falling asleep.

Hermione looked up just in time to see someone slinking away from the slightly ajar door of the classroom. Her heart began to beat faster and the familiar feeling of fear coursed through her. She then shook her head, dismissing the movement, and turned once again to her book. Her music whispered through the classroom around her, words echoing again and again.

…_It's like I waited my whole life, for this one night, it's going to be just me and you…_

  

Morning dawned noisily in the Griffindor girls' dormitories. Hermione was already up, trying to finish her novel before breakfast, when Ginny's alarm clock went off rather loudly. The noise pierced the dormitory with its shrilling, making Hermione grit her teeth. Cries of surprise went up from the drowsy girls. Ginny managed to pick up the alarm clock and fling it against the wall, silencing it almost instantly. It gave a feeble whistle before quietening down abruptly.

Parvati groaned and rubbed her bleary eyes. Lavender rolled to the edge of the bed, teetering, then fell to the ground with a thump. Hermione slid the novel under her pillow and rushed forward to help the girl up. They were soon all giggling, and after dressing in their robes, made their way to the Great Hall.

"Er-my-knee!" exclaimed Ron, his mouth full of what seemed to be scrambled eggs. Hermione couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. Harry also greeted Hermione, his green eyes hazy with sleep. Hermione seated herself between them, noticing Harry's obvious weariness.

Harry seemed to read her mind when he began to speak.

"Couldn't go to sleep… Quidditch…" He muttered. Hermione then realised that this quidditch match would be the decider of who won the Cup. It was between the Slytherins and the Griffindors, so the tension was high.

Hermione pointed her want at Harry, who had stopped eating and was looking at the wand tip hovering near his nose.

"Enervate," Hermione whispered. The spell was normally used to wake up the unconscious, but Hermione had found that it worked quite well in the ridding of fatigue. Harry's eyes brightened as he grinned.

"Hermione, you're a genius," he breathed, stretching his arms, evidently wide awake and energetic.

Ron looked up and heard only what Harry had said.

"Yeah, o' course 'Mione, you'll do all right!" Hermione giggled as she realised that Ron had thought Harry was placating her for her Runes exam that was to take place in her first class. Though she initially had been nervous, Hermione knew all the most obvious and well-used Rune translations, and was confident in her ability.

Hermione gazed at the runes, trying to figure out their origins. The strict lines, the lack of curves to be exact, pointed towards either Roman or Scandinavian runology. But Hermione couldn't fathom the simplicity. Her mind went into overdrive, causing slight panic, and she looked up at her Runes professor. A movement in the corner of her eye drew her attention, and she slightly tilted her head to find herself staring at Malfoy. An unsolicited frown decorated her normally smooth brows as she regarded the boy who taunted her regularly.

His hair, platinum blond, was in its traditional slick style. A stray lock hung down in front of his ramrod straight nose. It tickled the point, and the resulting twitch of his nose nearly reduced Hermione into a fit of giggles. He brought up his hand to brush back the strand, and that movement caused the front of his robe to open to reveal the top of a tight black t-shirt. Hermione shook her head and looked back down at her runes.

Then the simplicity of it all struck her. She began furiously writing down translations and the subsequent answer of the riddle presented.

A while later Hermione sat with Neville and Luna in the Quidditch Stadium, sporting the Griffindor colours. She wore a fitting burgundy t-shirt with her black jeans, the Griffindor scarf wrapped around her neck.

Lee Jordan announced the teams, and they flew in. The game proceeded with painful precision, two players, both from the Griffindor team, were forced to retire. The score was even, the stadium quiet as the players wove their way around the stadium. The quaffle was stolen by a Slytherin chaser, and consequently a point was scored for the Slytherin team. The green and silver clad supporters roared in appreciation as the Griffindors groaned in disappointment. It was then that Harry and Draco went head to head, zooming to the Slytherin-side stands. The crowd watched the pair race to the snitch that hovered in the middle goal hoop. Hermione watched as the two boys jostled for a favourable position.

There was an earth-shattering crash and equal confusion. Something huge, something incredibly ugly, crashed its way through the stadium. The game was called off as Harry and Draco spilt up and turned tail. They hurtled away from the dirty giant, as fast as their broomsticks let them. Hermione screamed as the giant made a snatch for Harry, but missed. She pulled out her wand and began sending jinxes in the direction of the giant. Many of the professors were doing the same, the rest ushering the children out of the stadium. Draco and Harry wove around the massive being, and simultaneously dove for the ground.

The giant faltered in its steps as the jinxes built up against it. It fell to the ground, causing vibrations that were felt throughout the school grounds. Hermione jumped down from the stands, fighting her way through the stragglers to get to Harry.

She crashed into Draco, her arms flung wide ready to hug Harry. Draco's arms wound around her, in reflex, and hers went around his neck on impact. They both slammed into the ground, and after a fraction of a second Hermione pulled away from the Slytherin. The look in his eyes mirrored the look in her own, surprise mingled along with curiosity. But the feeling was pushed away by the disgust planted on both of their faces. Hermione shakily stood up and looked down at the boy at her feet, trying to forget the feeling of the strong arms that had wrapped around her waist.

"Watch it, mudblood," he hissed as he gracefully stood up and brushed the dust away from his robes. She returned his comment with a frown and said nothing. She turned away and found Harry, immediately enveloping in a bone crushing hug.

Dumbledore, in all his magnificence, strode across the grounds.

"Harry, are you- Miss Granger, should you not be in the Great Hall?" Inquired the principal.

"Oh- Oh, yes. Sorry," spluttered Hermione as she walked off in the direction of the Great hall.

  

Draco watched as Hermione threw herself at Harry, grimacing as he remembered the feeling of her hands around his neck. They had both fallen to the hard ground, bruising her shoulders and backside. She had fallen on top of him, and they had lain there for a tiny proportion of a second. The feeling of the Mudblood on top of him invoked mixed feelings, but the predominant one was pure repulsion.

Draco shook his head and stalked after Hermione, following her across the grounds to the Great Hall. He pulled his quidditch robes over his head, revealing a pair of faded blue jeans and a tight black t-shirt. As they neared the Hall, Draco gained speed in his stride and pushed past Hermione, knocking her into the wall. He ignored her surprised cry and the ensuing thump as she hit the wall and sauntered into the Great Hall, disgruntled and visibly irritated.

He sat down at the Slytherin table and watched as Hermione walked in, touching her bruised temple.

_Let's hope that hurt,_ thought Draco to himself, sniggering. He shifted his attention from the Mudblood to his surroundings. The appearance of the giant had created chaos. The students around him spoke loudly of how they had nearly gotten killed. Some of the girls recited dramatic stories of being near-trodden on, and the males then responded by stating that they had fired an "extremely powerful" hex at the giant, just to save them.

Draco smirked and turned to Pansy. It may have been the fact that he had been tainted by the touch of the Mudblood, or that he nearly had died by the hands of a giant, but he was feeling exceptionally cruel. He knew that the pug-faced girl liked him and decided to lead her on.

"Pansy," he said, gripping the girl's wrist. She turned to him and stared at him with a soppy, slavish look on her face. He rolled his eyes inwardly, but kept a fixed expression of genuine interest. He murmured how he had tried to save her by distracting the giant, repeatedly asking if she was okay. He cackled with glee in his mind as she flushed and began praising his 'bravery'. In truth, the only thing that he thought was worthy of saving was his own ass.

Draco looked over to the Griffindor table. Ron was awkwardly petting Hermione on the shoulder as she trembled. He knew that she now suffered from the aftershock of the event, and noticed that he was shivering also. Draco rubbed his arms, still surveying the Mudblood girl at the opposite end of the hall to him.

Her hair hung in uncontrolled curls down her back, somewhat dampened by sweat. Her face was a blanched milky colour, the natural ruby of her cheeks removed by fear. The bruise that was on her forehead was gone, and he suspected that she had removed it by herself. The t-shirt she was wearing was also moist and clung to her quivering frame. She was slim and was in the process of acquiring the exquisite curves of womanhood.

A booming voice interrupted his observations, dispersing the thoughts that were swimming idly around his head. Draco looked up to survey Dumbledore, not listening to a word the principal said.

_Complete lunatic,_ thought Draco as he examined Dumbledore, _but then again, he is a Mudblood lover. _

  

Authors Note:

1) Songs: I Wanna Be - AVANT

Take You Down - CHRIS BROWN

2) If you love it - REVIEW, if you don't - REVIEW, and if you just feel like it (you guessed it) - REVIEW.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I still, unbelievably, do not have the pleasure in owning the Harry Potter world. Damn.**

  

The giant hadn't actually been let into the school grounds by anyone. It turned out that, as Hagrid's mother, she had the right to visit. The Department of Magical Creatures cleared her behaviour as "somewhat protective". Draco rolled his eyes as he received the news, and spent the following hour making fun of anyone, or anything, that wasn't pureblood. The topic turned to Granger. After commenting on her unsightliness, her arrogance and her annoying love for books, the conversation turned slightly risqué.

"Bet you she hasn't kissed anyone," sniggered Blaise. Draco laughed as well.

"Not true," began Draco, "she did have that little fling with Krum."

"Would have expected him to know better though, don't you think?"

The boys' laughter echoed around the empty common room.

"Well, I think its time for a trip to the kitchens. Don't wait up."

Blaise nodded and dragged himself up the boys' dormitories. Draco watched the retreating back of his one and only true friend, then walked out of the Slytherin Common Room.

The halls were empty, and Draco was free to peruse the portraits that hung up on the walls on either side to him. When he thought about it, he couldn't ever remember looking at these moving pictures, even though he had meandered through the very same corridors for years.

One picture caught his eye. It was of a man and a woman, both exquisitely good looking in their own ways. She was sitting on his lap, her arms wound lovingly around his neck, his hands holding her waist. They were both smiling, and something in their eyes told Draco that they were in love. The woman looked straight at Draco, and spoke in a lilting voice.

"Sometimes love is found in the most absurd places. It doesn't hurt to widen your options."

It was then that he noticed that she was wearing the Slytherin badge, while he was wearing the Griffindor one. He turned away at once, disgusted, and walked straight to the kitchens.

Draco returned from the kitchens with a roast chicken sandwich and a flask of pumpkin juice. He walked to the fourth floor, ambling around until he found the classroom that Hermione had been in the night before.

Sitting at the back of the room, on the floor leaning against the wall, Draco began to eat. He drowned the pumpkin juice in one huge gulp, almost choking. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until now. He was eating his sandwich when he heard someone traversing the hall. The footsteps stopped outside the room, and the door was pushed by none other than Hermione.

She flicked on the light, not noticing Draco at the back of the room, and assumed her usual position at the desk near the window. Her music started with a flick of her wand.

Draco watched her every move.

  

Hermione picked up her book, wriggling to get a comfortable position on the desk. Her music soothed her as she began to read. She was too tired to notice a pair of steely grey eyes regarding her over a half-eaten sandwich. In fact, Hermione was too tired to even read, and soon her breathing began to slow into deep sighs. The heavy book slipped from her grasp and slid onto the desk. Her music, though, continued to snake around Draco.

"_Oh tell me why, did I have to fall in love with you, I'm driving myself insane…"_

Draco got up. He flicked his wand, the music stopped. He stopped in front of her and had a strong urge to draw on her face. He knew it was childish, so he didn't even bother. Instead, he picked up the book, knowing that she would be anguished to find it gone when she woke up.

He sneered at her sleeping form, noticing that she wriggled uncomfortably against the wall behind her, pushing the desk slightly forward. She was balancing precariously on the desk and wall, the space between the two objects widened with her every move. Draco felt an urge to leave her there, to let her drop when the distance became too much for the force of gravity to resist. But his conscience, yes, he did have one, willed him to do something. So, with the air of picking up rubbish to put into a bin, Draco slid his arms under the sleeping girl and placed her on the floor, her head resting on a beanbag.

He glared at her form in its dreamy repose and turned heel to leave, remembering to snatch up the book before he went. Yes, Draco Malfoy did have a conscience, but even so did not have to listen to its every command.

  

Draco slid under the sheets of his bed and closed his eyes. Unable to sleep, he opened them again and the first thing he saw was Granger's book. Frowning slightly, he reached out to grab it.

"Lumos," he whispered, carefully drawing the curtains around his bed shut so as not to disturb the rest of the sleeping boys. He opened the book, which had a plain black cover, to see three words set in prim writing at the top of the next page.

_Hermione Jane Granger_.

Draco's lips mouthed the word 'Jane' as he read it.

_What a boring name for a boring person_, he thought.

Draco flipped the first page of the book and looked down at the title.

'_Pride and Prejudice, FULL VOLUME, 6__th__ EDITION' _was inscribed in a curvy, Edwardian font. It was gilded to add effect. The title evoked no recognition from Draco, but out of curiosity, he began to read.

  

Hermione awoke to the sound of sweet birdsong. The bird in question was perched on her forehead, looking down into her now wide open eyes. It was blue and gold, the same bird she had seen the night before last. She gently pushed herself upwards, grimacing as her body ached at the unfamiliar hard ground she was laying on. Her neck was sore, probably from being propped up against a beanbag with no thorough support.

She suddenly sat up straight, causing the bird perched on her head to chatter excitedly.

_Where am I?_ Hermione thought before taking in her surroundings.

_How did I get down here?_

She shrugged off the thought, slowly standing up. She stretched as she looked out of the window then at her watch. Her exclamation echoed around the empty classroom, and she spun around, trying to find her book. It was gone.

Hoping that a house-elf had returned it to her room, even though she despised the fact that a house elf would have to work for her, she made her way to the Griffindor Girls' Dormitories. Luckily she arrived before anyone had woken up.

  

Draco put down the book, finished. His eyes ached with tiredness, but his mind reeled with the intensity of the book.

_Who knew muggles could write so well?_

His slid the book under his pillow and looked at the clock beside his bed. Normally, he would have to wake up in an hour. He groaned, slid further under the covers of his bed and promptly fell asleep.

It seemed to Draco that he had only been sleeping for seconds until he was gently shaken awake. Blaise towered over him, grinning. Draco groaned, swatting Blaise's hands away.

He slowly slid out of his bed, leaving it to be made by the house elves. He followed Blaise to the bathroom and brushed his teeth and washed his face. It was too late to have a shower now.

Draco stumbled outside after dressing and collecting the books he needed for the first two periods. Herbology was first up with the Hufflepuffs and then it was Care of Magical Creatures with the Griffindors.

After breakfast, which was a sordid affair involving Draco's strong want to murder Pansy, Draco and Blaise trudged up to the Greenhouses. Professor Sprout had already started to explain the importance of the fine root hairs on a Venomous Tentacula, so Draco had to live without that precious knowledge. How depressing.

"Now dears, brush off the dirt and spray the solution on the _underside_ of their leaves, like so!" Professor Sprout demonstrated how to correctly feed the baby plant. Draco used a stick to poke the plant, which somehow emitted a hissing sound and wrapped one of its tentacles around his middle finger.

Draco tugged his finger away, poking the plant again. Blaise was beside himself with laughter. Even Crabbe and Goyle had smiles on their faces, though they actually did look somewhat Confunded.

Professor Sprout bustled past, waving her wand at a Hufflepuff boy who had succeeded in aggravating the plant enough for it to excrete its acidic venom straight into his face. Draco laughed, tears streaming down _his_ face, as he watched the boy scream and run around in tight circled, batting at the acid. Professor Sprout was miserably failing to get him to calm down.

  

Hermione walked to Care of Magical Creatures with Harry and Ron, wondering what Hagrid had to teach them today. Hagrid was standing outside his hut, holding onto what seemed like a bunch of long handled butterfly nets.

Luna wandered past and spoke to no one in particular.

"I think we may be catching Nargles," she whispered in her dreamy, hushed voice. Harry and Ron burst out laughing, Hermione shooting them death glares.

"Luna, shouldn't you be at Astrology?" Hermione asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She watched as the girl absently nodded and made her way back to the castle.

"How did you know that Loony had Astrology?" Asked Ron in between his snickering.

"If you hadn't noticed, _Luna_ comes to every one of our Care of Magical Creatures classes. I've been telling her that she's had Astrology for the past month Ronald. Honestly!"

With that, Hermione turned to find herself face-to-face with none other than Draco Malfoy. They both looked at each other frowning, until Draco pushed past Hermione and proceeded to loudly make fun of Hagrid and his butterfly nets. Hermione retorted with a huff, giving Draco one of her best patronizing stares. He made a Mudblood joke, making the Slytherins laugh and the Griffindors growl in warning.

Ron began, once again, yelling abuse and Harry began, once again, holding Ron back. Hermione, once again, gave Draco a cold look and looked at Hagrid, waiting for him to explain their task.

"Well, yer havta catch 'em like this," said Hagrid, making rough swinging actions in the air with the nets. He had already explained that they were going to attempt to catch Moon Moths, a common moth that provided antidotes to many harmful potions. Why they had to catch Moon Moths in the daytime, Hermione could not quite comprehend, but she was sure Hagrid had his ways.

Hagrid handed them one net each, motioning for them to go and find the moths. Hermione beamed at him, having a small conversation with the half-giant before wandering off to the Quidditch grounds. She went behind the Slytherin stands and saw one moth. She slowly crept forward, lifting up her net.

She quickly brought the net down, suddenly feeling a stinging pain on the side of her face. She found that, seconds later, she was on the ground.

Groaning, she stood up. Looking down, she felt a sense of strong déjà vu, finding Draco, once again, at her feet. She noticed blood on his face, where her net had hit him, and felt the blood on her face, where his net had hit her. She crouched down and pointed her wand at his face, watching his pupils constrict in sudden fear. The fear seemed to pass though, because he sat up smirking.

"You've got some mud on your face, Granger. Oh not wait, that just may be your blood," cackled Draco.

"Shut it, ferret face," began Hermione, healing herself with a simple spell. She grabbed his net, which was entangled in her own, and proceeded to untangle them. Draco leaned against the stands, blood still dripping from the cut on his face, watching the girl struggle with the catching devices. She looked up to catch him smirking.

"Malfoy, you're still bleeding," she said, her voice bored and a tad irritated. Draco lifted his hand and felt the blood, feeling the sting of the cut. He shrugged, letting her watch him bleed. She made an irritated noise the pulled out her wand. Pointing it at his face, she healed it, leaving not trace of the wound. He lifted his hand up once again and ran it down his jaw line, feeling smooth skin.

He lifted his wand and pointed it at the nets. The spell worked well, the nets untangled themselves in a flash. Hermione looked down at the nets in her hand, and handed Draco his. She began to turn away when Draco stopped her. She looked at him, searching his eyes. He smirked, once again, and pointed at the net he was holding. In it fluttered the Moon Moth that Hermione had tried to catch.

"Another instance where pure-blood beats Mudblood, Granger. Watch yourself next time. My blood's so precious that if you spill any more of it, I may be forced to kill you."

She looked up at him, raising her eyebrows. His smirk faltered, as he found her not outraged by his remark, she was instead smirking a little herself.

"If you say so, ferret. But I would advise you to check your fly. I may be forced to kill _myself_ if I accidentally see something down there. I don't want to be blinded by your _lack of size_, would I?"

Draco looked down, seething as he realised that his fly was indeed undone, and turned to do it up. When he turned back, ready with a witty remark detailing Granger's lack of everything womanly, he found her to be gone.

  

**Authors Note: Thank you very much to my first two reviewers! Remeber what I said in the last chapter (apart from myself owning all your asses)? REVIEW!! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure I made it clear the last time, but lets hope this hits home: I DO NOT OWN HP OR ANYTHING RELATED. And yes, again, I own all your asses.**

**Authors Note: Hey guys, if you are reading this, please _please_ review! I, honestly, have no idea what to do with this story. Oh well. By the way, to those Draco-lovers out there (like myself), he's a bit mean in this one, and does something not very... nice... And believe me, I didn't want him to do it but my evil brain ruled over my heart and made him. But I promise, you'll get your fluff soon enough!!**

 Ë 

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, as if all the action had been spent in the morning

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, as if all the action had been spent in the morning. Both Hermione and Draco remained in a foul disposition for the rest of the day, and the extra homework didn't improve their moods.

Hermione lay sprawled on the floor, finishing her Runes essay with a flourish. Her eyes itched with tiredness, and she groaned as she forced herself up. She prodded Harry then Ron, who were asleep on the couches next to her. She forced the two boys to their rooms, feeling exceptionally motherly.

Hermione glanced around as she made her way out of the Griffindor Common Room, hoping she wouldn't get caught. She climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, entering her regular classroom. She sat, this time, on the floor, resting against a bean bag. A flick of her wand initiated her music as she pulled out yet another book. She hadn't found her copy of 'Pride and Prejudice', but was sure it would turn up somewhere.

The book she was holding onto now though was a slim paperback with the words "So much to tell you" inscribed on the purple cover. Hermione read the first sentence,

'_I don't know what I am doing here.'_

How true those words seemed to her. With a nonchalant shrug she buried herself in the book, getting ready two paragraphs early to turn the page.

  

Draco found himself tracing his steps to their classroom. He mentally slapped himself for referring to the classroom on the fourth floor as _theirs_. He heard the music, and performed a simple Disillusionment charm over himself. With that, he slowly pushed the door open and edged in.

He didn't understand why he wanted to see the Mudblood, but pinned it down to revenge for her earlier remark, so as to keep it simple. And there she was, eyes darting from word to word in the new somewhat slimmer book. Her lips were slightly parted, and Draco had to resist the urge to send a hex down her throat.

Draco stepped inside and stood next to her. As if sensing him there, she looked around and frowned. But seconds later she was buried back in her book. Draco smirked. He hadn't really thought about how he was going to obtain revenge, but he was sure that he could improvise. He was not only a Slytherin, but a Malfoy at that.

Pulling out his wand, he performed a simple charm to undo the first three buttons of her uniform, and was surprised to find that Granger did, in fact, have the womanly swell of breasts that were normally concealed in her shapeless uniform. He shook his head, telling himself that there was many a Slytherin _pureblood_ specimen that, if they stood next to this _mudblood_, would shine. He shortened her skirt so that it allowed purple underwear to peek out from underneath, exposing slightly bronzed skin. She hadn't noticed any of this.

He crept out of the classroom and removed the Disillusionment charm. He grinned to himself and trotted down the hallway. He gathered Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle and curiously enough, also Colin Creevy. He even thought of waking up Markus Flint but thought against it. Markus was definitely not to be trusted.

  

Hermione was on to the fourth chapter when she thought she heard voices outside the room. She shook her head though, and then continued reading, a small frown of concentration adorning her brows.

The door burst open and Hermione looked up, surprised. Malfoy strode over to her, holding a terrified Colin Creevy by the scruff of the little boy's neck. Colin looked like a puppy that knew it was going to get a beating. Malfoy, on the other hand, had a self-appreciating smirk on his face that gave off the knowledge that _he_ would be the one to _give _the beating.

Upon Draco's command, Colin began snapping pictures of a very confused Hermione. Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle cracked up, laughing so hard that they had to clutch the door and nearby fixed objects to keep from falling. Malfoy crossed his arms and watched as Colin took the pictures. Hermione, seeming to come to her senses, stood up. Malfoy waved away Colin, nodding to his friends. Crabbe and Goyle grabbed the boy and Blaise led them out of the classroom, leaving just Hermione and Draco behind.

"Well, Granger," he sniggered, "it's not only me that forgets to _do things up_ then?"

Hermione looked at him, still confused. He stepped closer, the smell of his cologne washing over her in soft waves. He reached out his hand and grabbed her collar to pull her closer. His mouth tickled her ear as he spoke.

"Look at you _uniform_, you slut," he hissed.

Hermione pulled away from his grasp and looked down. She could see her purple bra with the top three buttons of her shirt undone. He skirt was so short that made mini-skirts look like something a nun would wear.

"Know what's going to happen to those pictures, Mudblood?" Malfoy was openly sniggering at her. He waggled his eyebrows, waiting for a reaction.

Hermione was shell-shocked. Anger and embarrassment flooded her senses. She drew back her arm and flung her tightly balled fist into the centre of Draco's face. She did not hear a crunch, and lamented the fact that his nose was not broken. Draco had staggered back on impact, but healed his nose with a simple spell. He laughed scornfully at her and strode out of the room.

Hermione fixed up her uniform and grabbed her book. Her music was still playing, drowning out the sound of her sobs.

"…_and now it's your turn to cry… Cry me a river…"_

  

The next morning, Draco felt no regret whatsoever in putting the pictures up. He maintained, to his conscience, that she had started it.

  

"WHAT IS THIS?" Harry was openly horrified, staring at one of the pictures of Hermione. Ron was comforting Hermione, placing an arm around her shoulders, handing her a slightly dirty handkerchief.

Harry was pacing the entire length of the Great Hall, furiously ripping up the picture. He spotted Draco walking in. Drawing his wand, he was about to fire a spell when Professor McGonagall stormed in. Her normally stern face was livid with anger.

"Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy are to report to my office. IMMEDIATELY!"

Hermione slowly stood up and walked to McGonagall's office, Draco closely following her. He was snickering to himself, though he did look somewhat pale. Hermione pushed open the door of McGonagall's office, amazed by the room itself. Cushiony footstools were spread nearly everywhere, and all her furniture looked incredibly comfortable. The only thing that resembled McGonagall herself was a worn cuckoo clock, ticking loudly and so in time with Hermione's heart it seemed like a comical echo. McGonagall stalked in after the pair, pointing to the only hard-edged pieces of furniture there, two straight-backed wooden chairs.

Hermione gingerly sat herself on one of the chairs, tears running down her face quietly. Draco was just as tense, but his face was rid of any emotion. Only his eyes betrayed him, their frantic darting informed everyone of his panicked state.

"Well? Explain yourselves!" McGonagall's voice was as hard as the chairs the pair were sitting on. Hermione and Draco began to splutter.

"Detention, both of you!"

Hermione's face paled at the thought of detention. It would be her first one at Hogwarts. All because of Malfoy. McGonagall had reasoned that she was out of bed after curfew.

Draco's face remained impassive throughout the lecture McGonagall gave them, but Hermione broke into bouts of tears every so often.

  

Hermione scoured the cauldrons clean, adding tears to the water solution that she scrubbed with. Her brows had remained knotted since the morning, and the tension was starting to give her a headache. She hadn't spoken a word to Draco, who was cleaning out the Owlery. At least she didn't have to work with shit, although some of the cauldrons had smears which smelled ghastly.

Hermione sighed as she finished cleaning the cauldrons. She dropped the dirty rag into a bucket and made her way to the window, taking her hair out of its messy bun as she moved. She was wearing Muggle clothing, a scoop-neck black sweater and black denim jeans. She wore no adornments except for a pair of miniscule silver sleepers.

Hermione leaned out of the window, breathing the fresh scent of the night air. Her gaze settled on the Owlery. She could see Draco's silhouette flit around the tower, obviously hurriedly cleaning. It was only a few minutes later that he made his way to a window of the Owlery, leaning out just as Hermione had done. The gel had worn off his usual slick hairstyle, and instead looked ruffled and messy. He looked softer like that. Somehow more human.

Hermione shook her head, turned from the open window and left for the Griffindor Common Room.

  

Draco looked out of the Owlery window. A slight breeze caressed him as he surveyed the castle's grounds. He looked up just in time to see Hermione walking away from the window. Her hair was not tied up as it had been when he last saw her, but loose, letting her curls cascade around her shoulders. She was wearing all black, which was somewhat slimming even though Hermione didn't need it. She was a budding hourglass figure, in near completion of being filled-out. He scowled.

_Mudblood's a pain. It's not even fair, she got an easier job. I'm not even half finished!_

Draco turned around and surveyed his work. The floor had been cleaned of the owl droppings, but the perches were still to be cleaned. With an irritated sigh he went back to work.

It was about two hours later that he was finished. He stalked out of the Owlery, growling to himself. His tread was light, almost undetectable. It was then that he heard faint sobs coming from a classroom opposite him. His curiosity got the better of him and she opened the door silently. It was the Mudblood. She was holding onto one of the pictures, sobbing over it. Draco's heart gave an almost undetectable wrench.

But it was not even seconds later that he reprimanded himself. He, a pureblood Malfoy, could not even think about feeling sorry for someone as low as a Mudblood. But this time, he did not sneer at her as he left. Instead, a contemplative frown took hold of his features as he silently turned and made his way to the Slytherin Common Room.

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**Authors note: Yehp, me again. Fancy meeting you here! Lets cut the crap, and just review!!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Me. No. Own. Harry. Potter. Rowling. Lucky. . Was that clear enough?**

**Author's Note: This chapter is a bit useless really. But I find it at least minutely amusing.**

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The head girl and boy, surprisingly from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw respectively, had decided to throw a masquerade ball. Ginny had convinced Hermione to leave both the costume and make up to her, so Hermione was completely devoid of any notion of what she was going to arrive as.

They had been granted a Hogsmeade visit, and Hermione had decided to use her time well. She arrived at Salem's Salon earlier than the appointment she had made, but the bustling woman who ran the shop was not at all busy.

Hermione was gently forced into a hairdressing chair and a length of black cloth was draped over her lap. Hermione honestly didn't know what to do with her hair, but apparently Celina Salem did. Hermione watched as a wand was waved over her hair, a pair of magicked scissors snipping very close to her throat. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as various potions were applied to her hair. It may have been the cosiness of the little salon, or the plush chair she was sitting on, nevertheless Hermione was asleep within seconds.

Being shaken awake to find yourself in an unknown place is quite frightening. Hermione had jumped a mile into the air before realising that she was being shaken awake by none other than Celina Salem, who had evidently finished styling Hermione's hair.

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. She got the same happy feeling as when her teeth had shrunken down by Madam Pomfrey. Her hair was still curly, but in a tamed, elegant way. The only thing that was drastically different was the side-fringe she had acquired. Hermione was happy. She had not wanted anything too significant, just a tidying up of sorts.

After paying Celina Salem and thanking her profusely, Hermione made her way back to the Griffindor Common Room, where Ginny was ever-so-patiently waiting for Hermione to make an appearance.

Ginny was peeved when Hermione finally made it to the Dormitory, but approved the simplicity of Hermione's hair.

"You'll look great in what I've gotten you," said Ginny. "But first, sit so I can do your make-up."

Hermione obligingly sat, but only after reminding Ginny that they were invited to a _masquerade ball _and therefore they had to be going _incognito_, thus the point of a _mask_. Even after listening to Hermione's incredibly logical argument, Ginny just told Hermione, quite bluntly, to kindly shut up.

Hermione winced at the amount of lotions and make-up kits spread out before her. She had also argued, again quite logically, that make-up could be applied quite easily by wand, but Ginny wouldn't take anything less than success. And therefore, Hermione had to spend around about two hours alone with make-up.

Ginny smiled as she finished Hermione's makeup, but she didn't let Hermione look at herself in the mirror just yet. Ginny brought out a dress.

It was floaty, semi-transparent, worn with a purple shift inside. Hermione shrugged the dress on and watched as Ginny zipped it up. It was baggy, and looked like a pile of semi-transparent sheets had been thrown over her head, until of course Ginny started fitting it properly. With several flicks of her wand, Ginny had the dress moulded to Hermione's perfect physique, flaring slightly out just below her hips, ending in varying lengths. The strapless dress was sprinkled with a small amount of silver glitter, and Ginny brought out the mask. It was also semi-transparent, but by the work of many a wizard with sufficient talent, Fred and George, it did not allow people to recognise her.

Hermione turned and looked in the mirror. She gasped, her hand clamped over her mouth. The dress was beautiful, and Ginny had done a wonderful job with her make-up. Her hair was exactly how Celina Salem had styled it, except there was a wrought silver tiara perched upon her head. She could see herself exactly how she was, but the way Ginny's eyes slid straight over her face showed that she wouldn't be recognised.

"It's the same spell they use on the Leaky Cauldron. Fred and George tweaked it a little so that even wizards wouldn't know who you are, but they still will be able to see your make-up. Confusing isn't it?"

Ginny's eyes were directed at an empty spot just above Hermione's head.

Hermione smiled and turned once again to the mirror. She attached a pair of very real looking wings to her back. She felt the muscles along her back contract and relax as she made her wings flutter.

Ginny smiled, but it faltered as Hermione turned around, a very wicked expression on her face.

"My turn," Hermione said, as she lightly shoved Ginny into a chair and began applying her make-up.

  

Draco regarded himself in the mirror. He was wearing a green dress shirt over tight black pants. A long black overcoat was then slipped into, only after the adornment of a black belt with its silver buckle in the shape of a coiled dragon. He donned his mask, green and silver, cut specifically to show his eyes and a lot of his face, but still demanded credit because not even Blaise could recognise him until a minute of intense staring.

As Blaise began to throw on his outfit, Draco fastened a very-real sword to his belt. He placed a silver crown over his head, completing his kingly masquerade.

Blaise turned around as he finished. He was to come as a knight, but had not dressed up in any armour. In fact, he wore an outfit similar to Draco, minus the crown, plus a silver mask. He was also wearing a silver shirt, not green, and his belt buckle was of a snake, not a dragon.

The Prince and The Knight made their way down to the Great Hall. Their immaturity and the fact that they were near-average teenage boys took hold of them, and they began childishly rating the girls surrounding them in the corridors they were passing.

Draco and Blaise were admitted to the front of the line outside the doors of the Great Hall, just before the doors swung open to reveal a very changed hall. It was all black, ceiling still enchanted. Candles floated just out of reach almost everywhere, and the air seemed to glitter. The Heads had done a great job.

Draco swept into the hall, and because no-one could recognise him, he hardly got his revering treatment as per usual. He was somehow unnerved by it, as if his degradation to status 'normal' was something unthinkable. With that thought, Draco pulled off his mask.

_It's not like people weren't going to recognise me eventually_, he thought to himself.

Draco smirked as the people around him took one look at him and stepped backwards, allowing him and Blaise a free path to the 'Slytherin' corner of the Great Hall. Someone dressed in a horrible pink dress squealed his name and began running to him. Blaise shook with uncontrolled laughter at the scowl of disgust on Draco's face, as Pansy Parkinson, predictably dressed as a fluorescent pink fairy princess, came galloping towards them.

_I think I feel the ground shaking_, he mused to himself. He allowed Pansy to wrap her vine-like arms around him for less than a second, then unwound her arms brusquely. Pansy's hurt face was almost immediately replaced by fervent adoration. Draco made his way to a couch, a bottle-green with silver cushions, and with one glare emptied it of all its occupants. He lounged on the chair, inviting only Blaise to sit with him. After an amusing conversation that involved him threatening a first year Griffindor, Draco let his eyes wander around the room. No-one caught his eye, except for an exceptionally pretty Ravenclaw girl.

_The pretty ones just had to be in other houses_, Draco fumed. He was getting quite bored, examining the lacy ending of the cushion when the whole room hushed. He looked up just in time to see a beautiful girl gliding into the room. Something about her invoked recognition, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. Her dress was like a spider's web, glistening and baby-fine. Her silver heels, not so high actually, set off her splendidly shaped legs.

His eyes travelled appreciatively over her body, lingering at her chest and trim waist. He was amazed at the level of Transfiguration that the girl would have had to pass before she learnt to make those beautiful wings. He appreciated smart girls.

Draco shook his head as he felt himself blushing. That wasn't natural. Malfoys did not blush. But he desperately wanted to find out who she was, and was fretting about it until he realised that he was a wizard. With a flick of his wand, he made himself immune to the charms placed upon her mask. He recoiled as he realised he had been admiring none other than Granger.

_Of course_, he thought, _only Hermione would have been able to do that_.

His eyes widened as he thought of her as 'Hermione', and sat in a daze of complete confusion. Blaise had to repeatedly yell his name before he came back to his senses. He had called Granger 'Hermione'. And because of that, he was traumatized.

_What the hell is wrong with me?!_

"So, mate, who d'you think the chick is?"

Draco looked up to see Blaise looking at Granger, obviously not knowing who she was. Blaise's eyes looked like they were undressing her. Draco felt a tinge of annoyance, but reprimanded himself for it seconds later.

"That there? The Mudblood," Draco grinned as he watched Blaise's hungry expression turn into one of complete disgust.

Draco watched Hermione was asked to dance over and over again. She eventually had the nerve to decline a poor Hufflepuff boy and sat down at the Griffindor couches. She was immediately surrounded by throngs of admirers. Draco sneered. He had the 'throngs of admirers' treatment every second of his life. Granger was just on a one-off. She'd never get that treatment again. Except for maybe Weasley.

He watched as she shied away from the people looming over her, her breasts pushing up against the fabric of her dress. He could clearly see the outline of her bra, and when he let his eyes linger downwards, the firm line of her underwear along her hips. He tensed. He, Draco Malfoy, was not about to get… _excited_… over a _Mudblood_. He crossed his legs, trying to hide the growing bulge. He felt disgusted at himself. But then again, as he looked around nervously, he could see many boys were having his same problem. He smirked, but that was wiped off his face when Hermione looked up to catch his eye.

Her eyes were a tawny brown.

_Fitting colour for a lioness_, he thought, but reprimanded himself for that thought as well. His brain told him to hate her, but his body was retaliating. Every part of him seemed to gain temperature, one part, much to his embarrassment, gained size. Hermione's eyes broke away from his and glanced down to his crotch area. Her cheeks reddened considerably, and she immediately looked away, her mouth forming a comical 'o'.

He was going to use this against her. But first, something to… _calm him down_.

_Oh, look everyone,_ he thought to himself, wrenching his eyes away from Hermione, _it's Pansy!_

He lost size almost immediately.

  

**Author's Note:**

**I'm not entirely sure I want a review... Oh, and if you want me to continue with the ball in the next chapter, give me some ideas. If you dont, give me some ideas anyway.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I would be lying if I told you I owned anything to do with Harry Potter.**

**Author's Note: I know it took a while, but here goes:**

The next day dawned quietly, as everyone was still asleep and tired from the night before. Ginny alarm clock, a self repairing thing, woke everyone, yet again, in the Griffindor Girls' Dormitories, earning it a hard smack against the wall.

Hermione blinked away the sleep in her eyes, still unfocused and dreamy. She padded down to the bathroom and had a quick shower, lathering large quantities of shampoo in her hair. It would take a lot to take out all the gunk that Ginny had applied to Hermione's curls. Surprisingly though, her hair stayed tame even after the painstaking process of drying and combing.

Pulling her robes over her head, Hermione slowly made her way down to the Common Room. Harry was already up, muttering something and waving his wand. A chair soared towards him and connected with his head with an awful sounding _thump_ before Hermione could stop it. Harry swore, rubbing his head, then sent the chair back to where it should have been.

Hermione shook her head and smiled. Harry had been practising for his Charms Exam for weeks now. She gently took him up to the Boys' Dormitories, pulling his wand away from him and commanding him to go to sleep. It was a Saturday; he could afford to sleep in.

Ron cracked open one of his eyes, and at the sight of Hermione, yanked his blanket up to his chest, exclaiming "Bloody hell!", and then promptly fell back asleep.

Hermione, on the other hand, walked cheerily out of the Common Room, down to breakfast. She eyed the early students, slumped over their respective tables, some half-heartedly trying to eat, many failing miserably. Everyone was just too tired. And so, when Hermione bounded into the Great Hall, humming a bouncy tune, she attracted a lot of tired glares.

She took no notice of this whatsoever, and grabbing two pieces of buttered toast and a serviette, she walked out of the hall. Her breath came out in short gasps as the cold stung her exposed face. She could see her smoky breaths, and took a deep breath and blew, creating a train of smoke that disappeared into the morning air. She grinned, and walked down to Hagrid's hut. He wasn't in, so Hermione walked back up to the castle. She lingered on the bridge that separated the castle from Hagrid's hut, eating her toast. She looked down and almost choked on her piece of bread.

Malfoy was lying on a rocky outcrop, just under the bridge, hidden from anyone unless they looked directly over the bridge, which was what Hermione was presently doing. He was stretched out on his back, hands behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles. He wasn't wearing his robes; rather, he was wearing a black t-shirt with baggy worn-out denim jeans.

A smile played on his face, and he rounded his lips and blew out in short breaths, using his tongue and lips to create smoke rings from his breath. Hermione raised her eyebrows and turned around. She tried to make her own, but succeeded in only thick columns of ungraceful smoke which blew back into her face because of the slight breeze.

Dank clouds were rolling in from the west, ominous and crackling. The rain started pouring down. Hermione looked over the bridge to see what Malfoy would do. He picked up his wand and waved it, and the rain bounced off an invisible bubble-like structure that Malfoy had cast over himself. Hermione was impressed. He continued to blow smoke rings, and his features suddenly contorted into a thoughtful frown. He blew a smoke ring and experimentally waved his wand, and the smoke ring began to change colours. Hermione silently laughed and clapped in delight. It was beautiful.

Malfoy grinned at his achievement and blew more, colours inverting, starting always with green and mystically ending in shimmering silver. In between were a plethora of deep, beautiful colours that Hermione hadn't ever noticed before. There was a profound aquamarine that reminded her of the depths of the lake, a burgundy red that burned with passion and an emerald green that twinkled like a jewel.

There was a sudden crack and lightening flashed over the sky. The wind began to howl, rocking the bridge. Hermione gripped the edge, fighting a terrified scream that rose in her throat. She had always been terrified of heights, which was why she despised flying, and the rocking bridge over the deep precipice had her breaking into sweats. The bridge moaned, its boards creaking. Hermione knew that the bridge was held up by magical means, and couldn't break, but all the same was scared.

Dark figures glided in from the west, the same direction from which the clouds had come. Their tattered hooded robes billowed around them. Hermione did not resist a scream this time.

 Ë 

Draco looked up from his smoke ring blowing, spying the Mudblood staring up into the sky and screaming. He glanced at where she was looking, and terror clutched at him as he saw a small group of Dementors soar towards them. He scrambled to his feet, gripping his wand. The Dementors were advancing quickly, and Draco was frozen in place while he watched the Granger girl search for her wand. It clattered from her fingers to the edge of the bridge. With heart-stopping finality, it teetered over the edge and began to fall.

Draco caught is effortlessly, and holding both wands, jumped to grip the bridge. He hauled himself up over the railings, dropping into place beside the terrified girl. He pressed the wand into her hand and began to drag her from the bridge, never turning his back on the portentous figures.

It was no use. They would never get to solid ground before the Dementors caught up with them. Draco raised his wand as he pulled Hermione towards him. He willed himself to think happy thoughts, but the approaching figures had turned him into a cold cave of dark feelings and hopelessness. It was then that the girl beside him had decided to bury her face into his t-shirt. He supposed it was all shock. Normally Hermione Granger would be able to cast the Patronus spell faster than Draco could blink, but she was now a trembling girl, reduced to normality, and was clinging onto him.

He looked down at her, and something about her face had changed. It was like he was seeing the raw version of normally such a composed girl. She was all emotions, boiling over at this point. He regarded her face; tightly shut eyes and a well defined mouth turned down at the corners, and looked up at the Dementors. He raised his was and cast the spell, his voice not faltering in the least. The rocking of the bridge, and the actual force of the spell had propelled him backwards, and he slammed into the railings of the bridge.

A silver snow leopard erupted from the end of his wand, charging at the approaching advocates of sorrow and despair. Draco watched as his Patronus gracefully leap into the air, snarling. It threw itself at the Dementors, yowling and screeching with pent-up rage and the intention to protect its Master. The hooded figures fought back but were pushed farther and farther away from the huddled pair.

One of the Dementors broke ranks and was able to force its way towards Draco and Hermione. Draco couldn't raise his wand, the feeling of despair leaving him immobile and shaking. It was then that Hermione raised her wand and screamed the spell. Her Patronus was an otter, a small bouncy playful thing. It lost all its apparent cuteness though, and leapt at the Dementor, scratching with its minute claws and biting with equally small teeth.

The pair watched the battle from below, watching light slowly vanquish the darkness. Draco's arms had encircled Hermione's waist, holding her firmly to him. Her arms were flung around him, unwilling to let go. They felt, rather than saw, Dumbledore stride magnificently onto the bridge and add his Patronus, a phoenix, to the fight. The Dementors were forced away, and the Patronuses returned to clarify that their Masters were safe. With that, they vanished into the bitingly cold air.

Draco watched as Dumbledore watched the retreating Dementors, eyes unreadable, face pensive. He told Draco to take Hermione to Madame Pomfrey and stay there. Draco once again looked down at the trembling girl clinging to him, and slowly guided her in the direction of the castle.

Draco noted that no-one was wandering down the castle halls and put it to the fact that is was still relatively early. Even he was fighting back a yawn. They reached the Hospital wing, Hermione still clinging to him, eyes wide open, mouth in a tight line of fear.

Madame Pomfrey firmly instructed the pair to sit down as she gave them a reinvigorating potion labelled 'Enervum', the equivalent to the spell 'Enervate'. She explained to Draco that the actual spell could worsen Hermione's condition, whereas the potion form had been infused with crushed sprig of rosemary to soften the impact. Draco nodded. He knew the properties of rosemary very well, as he loved the art of potions and excelled in the actual class.

Hermione drank the potion and immediately assumed a vague but alert expression. She looked at Draco and gasped, her hand involuntarily making its way to his left arm. It was then that he noticed that his arm had been ripped open from just above his elbow to his shoulder, and remembered he had slammed into the railings of the bridge when he had cast his Patronus.

Madame Pomfrey waved her wand at his hand, which immediately stopped bleeding. The nurse picked up a small bottle inscribed "Essence of Dittany". He recognised Dittany as an aromatic plant related to oregano, and immediately realised its medicinal properties. He watched his wound close, albeit painfully, as Madame Pomfrey dabbed the liquid onto his now fading wound.

Hermione had been watching with a mixture of intrigue and something like pain on her face. Draco grunted as the nurse rubbed more Dittany onto his now closed wound, trying to suppress the pained scream that had threatened to rise from his throat. Hermione looked up to his face, eyebrows contracted. They immediately relaxed, and she lowered her eyes to the polished floor.

"Thank you," she whispered, and before he could reply, Madame Pomfrey gently forced the two shell-shocked sixth year students to sleep.

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**Author's Note:**

**1) Type in "Achmed the Dead Terrorist" into Youtube and watch it. Its Hilarious!!**

**2) More importantly, REVIEW!**

**-GQ**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: I absolutely hated this chapter, and I understand if you hate it too, because the last chapter seems to make this one a little insignificant. Don't worry all you fluffy romantics, it won't be long beofre you get the real thing! I would like to also warn you that the chapter after this one, Chapter Seven, is going to be even worse. But guys, from Chapter Eight onwards, the real story begins!**

**Disclaimer: I OWN HARRY POTTER AND ALL RELATED MERCHANDISE/AFFILIATES. Oh how I lie.**

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It was childishly comforting to wake up to a clean white room, in between clean white sheets with their clean white counterparts, the pillows. Draco put the feeling of homely comfort to the fact that he was still shocked after yesterday. A familiar face, Blaise's, peered down at him, squinting as though Draco was fading away. To smile at someone looking down on you was a consoling albeit degrading affair, especially since Draco was normally the one that looked down upon people.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes while Blaise threw questions at him. Answering them placated his best friend, and also Draco himself, until Blaise shot him a question that hit bullseye, figuratively speaking.

"Why did you help her?"

The question was innocent to a degree, but even Blaise couldn't hide the profound depth of it all.

_Why did I help her?_

He hated to digress at that point, especially with Blaise, but the question really didn't allow much space for a comfortable answer. So Draco, instead of answering the question, tried to think of something that would distract Blaise, but all he could come up with was a pained face. Blaise understood and didn't bring up the matter again.

With a curt nod to the two worrying friends of an unconscious Hermione Granger, Draco allowed himself to be supported out of the Hospital Wing.

The Slytherin Common Room hushed as soon as their allegorical king staggered through the doorway. They parted to allow him and his friend through, someone strategically and somewhat thoughtfully restraining a wailing Pansy.

His room was a comfort. Not only did it board him and his best friend only, it also had a warm, homely feel towards it. The walls were a deep emerald, bedspreads black and pillows green, ornaments either silver, emerald or opal. It emanated power, but to Draco, _power_ was _homeliness_.

Blaise sat Draco down on a leather armchair, a privilege given to them by the status 'prefect', and looked, once again, down at his friend. His eyebrows contracted upon his handsomely dark face as he sat opposite his friend. His concern flowed as freely and obviously as a thundering river. Draco gave him a small smile of sorts, which seemed to calm his friend down. After idle conversation and a tragic game of wizard's chess, the pair wandered down to lunch.

Draco sat at the Slytherin table, subconsciously scanning the Griffindor table for a particular girl with her now tamed brown hair. His eyes failed to find her and his stomach plummeted. He didn't even try to reprove himself for the feeling of concern, because he knew that he was.

Somehow the feeling of her clinging to his chest, weeping on him, leaning on him for support, her submissiveness when she was afraid, all added up to something nearly as great as Blaise's friendship. It was then that the pureblood Slytherin king acknowledged his demolished principles of pureblood vs. muggleborn, for he did not use the word 'mudblood' anymore, and his acceptance of the girl he had hated for a good fraction of his life.

Looking up, Draco caught Blaise's eye. The revelation and raw confusion on Draco's face seemed to make Blaise slightly protective, and the darker boy growled and bristled and acted sentry when anyone came near enough to cause Draco any discomfort. The actions of his friend nearly brought Draco down into tears, but he was old enough to know better. He would repay Blaise someday.

Pansy, looking overwhelmingly like a hungry bulldog, walked up to Draco. She peered over Blaise, who had positioned himself tactfully between her and Draco, and started to pain him with abrupt questions. Blaise stood up, grabbed a couple of pieces of toast and beckoned to Draco, who pushed past pansy in a hurry to get out of the hall.

They rounded the corner and Draco thumped into someone walking their way. It was unexpected, and he found himself on the ground in front of extremely familiar legs. Looking up, he saw the concerned face of Hermione, and immediately scrambled to his feet. Blaise busied himself with scratching his head and examining the wall.

Draco looked at the girl in front of him, wanting to feel her small frame clinging to his again. She broke eye contact, subsequently breaking his intense gaze, and looked down. He stepped up closer, and reached out with his hand, brushing the soft skin of her temple, remembering the bruise he had given it a couple of days ago. Remorse welled up inside of him as he noticed her impeccable uniform, remembering the photos he had shamelessly put up. He frowned for a second, and beckoned for both Blaise and Hermione to follow him.

Blaise and, unusually enough, Hermione, followed him without a moments hesitation. They walked the long winding corridors down to the dungeons. Motioning for the two in his wake to wait outside, he whispered the password and walked into the empty Slytherin Common Room. He ran up to his room, taking the steps three at a time, and started flinging things away from his bed and desk. He searched under the desk and bed, and then finally in his wardrobe. Grabbing it, he ran down the steps and out into the corridor where Hermione and Blaise were holding awkward conversation.

They both stopped as he emerged, Hermione looking up at him. Draco looked at what he had been searching in his room for, a book with a plain black cover inscribed with the words "Pride and Prejudice". He held it out to Hermione, who looked up at him. She took the book, and their fingers brushed. The jolt of electricity took Draco's breath away. He realised he hadn't said anything to Hermione in the course of the morning.

Blaise mumbled something about getting his Charms book and tactfully disappeared inside the Common Room, leaving Draco fumbling for conversation with Hermione.

 Ë 

Hermione looked at the book in her hands, and then looked up at the pale haired, silent boy in front of her. Things had changed, and she had acknowledged that fact with grace and new hope. Her body burned with feeling, and the animalistic want to be held took over her. She moved forward, not thinking, stopping millimetres in front of Draco's loosely folded arms. How she wanted them to open up to her.

She tilted her head up to regard his face. His nose, ramrod straight, was slightly upturned at the tip. His eyes were wide with shock of her closeness, their beautiful metallic grey seemed to light up his whole face. His lips were beautifully shaped. His jaw looked like it had been chiselled by a master jewel cutter, and so did the rest of his lean body. Seeing him made her ache with longing. The pain seemed to show on her face, because his flickered with hope and his arms opened tentatively.

She looked up sharply in surprise, almost causing him to cross his arms again, but she moved closer before he could. She hesitated only slightly before burying her face into his strong chest, breathing in his addictive scent whilst wrapping her arms around him. She felt him tense, but then relax, as he, in turn, encircled her with his strong arms. She never wanted to let go. Those long years of hate dissolved in the feeling that drowned her now. The aching feeling of longing was still there, but this was a twisting hope that he would stay with her forever.

 Ë 

She looked up to him, and her smile cut through him like a jagged knife. She was all he wanted, and she knew that now. He brought a hand up to brush away a stray curl. His hand tipped her chin up, his thumb rubbing at her bottom lip, and he tilted his head, realising how lucky he was. Draco's eyes glistened with tears, but he didn't try to brush them away. Nothing would stay hidden from her now.

He did not lean down for a kiss. He wanted to savour the moment of her body pressing against his with such trust. He wanted time to freeze, and leave him to hold her for eternity. A kiss would break the moment, and even though his lips burned for hers, he refrained. He felt that she was too innocent, a precious thing that needed to shine, that needed to give the rest of the hate tainted world some of its pure love.

Her fingers brushed away the tears that fell, holding him tighter. Draco buried his face into her neck, wishing she could be his forever. He did not know if it was just the initial giddiness that accompanied teenage crushes, or a bond of true love, but he hope with all his heart that it would be the latter.

The moment was interrupted by a very flustered Blaise. He cleared his throat loudly, and motioned to the corridor where the trio heard footsteps. Draco unwillingly let go of Hermione, who took out her want and performed a Disillusionment charm on herself. It was so good that even Draco couldn't see her. Somehow this made him panic.

"Stupid Mudblood," came a shrilly voice from around the corner. Draco bristled with anger, but Blaise held him back and gave him a pointed look. Draco schooled his features into something reminiscent of boredom, and waited for Pansy, Markus Flint, Crabbe and Goyle to round the corner.

Hermione pressed herself as hard as she could into the stone wall, and Draco moved in front of her. He nodded curtly to the group approaching them, but was suddenly interested in what they were looking at. It was a square piece of paper, but Draco couldn't tell what it depicted. Markus Flint looked quite interested though.

As if reading his mind, Flint jogged up, all the while laughing uncontrollably, and showed him the piece of paper. It was one of the photos of Hermione, with crude magical graffiti scrawled over it. She was looking up to someone behind the camera, with something like shock and confusion plastered across her face. Blaise placed a hand on Draco's shoulder before he could do anything drastic.

If anger were an ocean, Draco would be drowning now. His hands were shaking as he pretended to laugh at the photo, and requested it. As soon as the group left, with many a dirty look from Pansy, Draco incinerated the photo with a choice destructive spell. He whispered something else with the spell, and the many other people looking at any of the photos that he had put up would be nastily surprised: they would burst into flame in their hands. It was a spell he had overheard Snape using.

Hermione did not take of the Disillusionment charm, rather, but she lessened it. She slipped her now opaque hand into Draco's. She forgave him and now he knew that. It seemed he was getting to know a lot these days. He turned around to find a ghost-like Hermione behind him. It was disturbing, seeing her in this form, and he had an urge to take off her spell and make her whole. He felt she could slip away if she was like this.

With a small smile, Hermione made herself fully invisible again and disappeared into the shadows of the surrounding corridors. Draco felt a smile play at his mouth, even though he realised he had embarked on a journey which had a greater possibility of a not-so-happy ending rather than a good one. Draco sighed. Why did he have to make his life all the more complicated?

**Author's note: Yeah. I absolutely hated it. Don't feel bad about the hate mail, I know it's coming. It'll be coming for the next chapter too.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Yeah. So here it is. The chapter I hated so much. Oh well. Next one will be so much better, I promise!**

**Disclaimer: ****No poseo Harry Potter o cualquier cosa relacionado. Pero poseo todos sus asnos. That directly translates (from Spanish to English) to:**

**I do not own Harry Potter or anything related. But I do own all your asses.**

 Ë 

Who knew the power of war could be so strong? Of course everyone knew about its destructive qualities, but the ease in which it tore through the already straining relationships of people was formidable.

A strong sense of diligence and perseverance was perceived on both sides, the Light and the Dark, as they battled it out. Sunset came and went, but no-one noticed its brilliant glow or the romantic bathe it gave the now darkening night sky. Draco had been surrounded by the Dark side, it was hard not to go back to his old ways, and they seemed so much simpler at this point. He was on the verge of cursing a Death Eater then and there, but the look his father gave him was enough to turn him to stone. It did, figuratively, as Draco's emotions _did _turn to stone.

He killed, he burned, he tore apart everything. His eyes assumed a distant, frozen look. He was Imperiused, though not magically. He knew he would die if he didn't kill. It was every man for himself in this war, for it wasn't a war between the two sides. It was a war of survival, a war of fitness. And what is that common saying? _Survival of the fittest._ And it was.

Jets of light shot out around him, illuminating the air in an array of brilliant fireworks. The resplendence was ignored, however, as shrieks and groans filled the air. Pain seared through him as a well aimed hex from a certain red haired girl hit him in the right arm. He shook off the feeling, as well as the hex, with a simple charm. He hid behind a statue and felt it blast around him, gasping as the shards dug into his back. He noticed Potter, Weasley and Hermione running. He followed.

The Room of Requirement was his regular haunt. He spent most of last year in it, hiding from his fears, his life as it was. He entered quietly, not noticing Crabbe and Goyle following him. He saw her first. Beads of sweat decorated her forehead, her eyebrows raised as if eternally in worry, the corners of her lips tugged downwards. He felt warmth, something like painful regret for what he was about to do. But the cold took over him again, and he walked forward with his wand pointed.

The look of pain on her face nearly killed him then and there.

The next few moments passed unusually fast, and before he knew it the Room of Requirement was burning. He lost one of either Crabbe or Goyle in the fire, he couldn't tell. Someone hauled him up onto a room, and he saw a hazy flash of bright green eyes and jet black hair. He would have to thank Potter later. He remembered that Hermione was scared of heights, and thus scared of flying, and tried in vain to look for her. Why couldn't he see her?

He saw, out of the corner of his eyes, her streak past him, heading for the ever diminishing door of the Room of Requirement. Her name escaped his lips before he fell into the comforting arms of unconsciousness. He distinctly remembered a pain in his mouth, like someone had punched him. But that was all a haze, somewhat like the disturbed currents of air in the horizon of a hot day. Black had always been one of his favourite colours. He was engulfed in it in minutes.

 Ë 

The war was over. Harry had brought victory for the Light side and Voldemort's body lay well away from their dead. He was still sprawled upon the cold flagstones of the floor; face still a mask of anger and disgust. He died as a vain, driven animal, wanting always the best.

Hermione sat with Harry and Ron, offering condolences to the grieving and shedding tears for lost loved ones. The accepted congratulations, but Hermione felt like the tag-along. Even though everyone insisted that she was the actual brains behind the trio, she could hardly come to terms with the fact that she had hardly really done anything. She kept up her façade though, nodding and smiling where appropriate, assuming grief where needed, ultimately appearing as everyone's favourite Hermione.

She was broken. Her eyes burned, but she held back her tears. She wouldn't cry for someone who lied.

But why couldn't she breathe?

_If I should die before I wake  
It's 'cause you took my breath away  
Losing you is like living in a world with no air_

 Ë 

Draco woke up looking straight into the eyes of Peeves. The poltergeist blew a raspberry at him and zoomed off, shrieking new found songs about "wee Potter our hero". The sudden realisation hit him. Voldemort was gone. The Light side had one. He was free.

Pain clawed at him, his heart seemed to twist itself, as he was reminded of Hermione.

He leant against the corridor wall, breathing hard, grinding his teeth, doing all he could to forget her.

_I'm here alone, didn't wanna leave  
My heart won't move, it's incomplete  
Wish there was a way that I can make you understand_

 Ë 

Hermione let the tears cascade down her face to mingle with the sweat and crusted blood. She looked up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, noting the stars, noting the indigo sky. Noting the fact that the moon was the exact colour of Draco's eyes.

_I will never try  
To deny that you are my whole life  
'Cause if you ever let me go  
I would die_

 Ë 

Draco glared at the lifeless bodies that littered the corridor. His fingers clawed into the rough bloodstained carpet, and he closed his eyes and imagined her. He knew that the moment he had accepted her, the moment that she had offered herself, that he was hers. No matter how much he twisted the past events, he couldn't bring himself to say that Hermione did not mean anything to him.

_No letting go, no holding back  
Because you are my lady  
When I'm with you it's all of that  
No letting go, no holding back _

 Ë 

The trio stood up and the surrounding throng of fighters let them pass. They walked across the grounds to Dumbledore's grave. Harry resealed the broken tomb with a simple spell, but before that, he placed within it both the resurrection stone and the Elder wand. He fingered the invisibility cloak that lay across his arm, but decided to keep that. After all, it was a gift from his father.

Ron touched Hermione's shoulder, smiling in his comfortable, old way. But somehow, that smile was tainted, tainted with the remnants of the war. The grief for his dead brother showed through every contour of his face, and Hermione felt his pain. Ron took Hermione's hand and watched in silence as Harry resealed the burial place.

Hermione gazed at the sealed tomb, admiring its glowing marble, admiring the tendrils of vines that so artfully grew from around its base. She turned and looked at the castle. The damage was visible; holes polka dotted the castle walls, still smoking from the intense battering of spells. Venomous Tentacula lay withered, clutching to the unfortunate Death Eaters, dragging them to their last resting place underground. Suits of armour littered the grounds, swords beside them, as the turned once again back to their inanimate forms.

**The world had righted itself.**

 Ë 

Draco looked up to see his mother hovering over him. Her smile was strained, grieving, pained. He looked up at her and took her offered hand. He knew what had happened before Narcissa Malfoy had even uttered a word. His father was dead. He was free.

He pulled his mother into a hug, crying tears both for his dead father and their newfound freedom. She gripped his arm and allowed herself to be led outside of the castle grounds. While his mother fussed over his injuries, Draco's eyes swept across the grounds of Hogwarts. He spotted three figures at a white marble tomb, their head bowed. He stared at the one furthest from him, noticing everything from her tearstained face to her windswept hair.

Somehow knowing he was looking at her, Hermione looked up. Draco continued staring at her. She stared back. It was then that Narcissa Malfoy gripped his arm and they returned to the Malfoy Mansion in side-along apparition.

**It was over, and yet, it had just begun.**

 Ë 

**Author's Note: Yeah. Well. Yeah. Look forward to the next one! I think it will be good anyway... Oh by the way, if I don't get enough reviews I won't be writing anymore. No point wasting my time, huh?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note**: Hi all. I've noticed that I've been put on story alert for some people, and I thank you immensely, but could you please review too? Oh, and some thanks are long overdue:

Theworstwitch – my first reviewer, who has given me many ideas and made me write more. Thank you for being my predominant reviewer!

Lankancurry12 – hey Dink, thanks to you too for making me write something for this site. Thanks for also telling everyone at school about it. I really do appreciate it.

narrows eyes _:D_

**Disclaimer: **

Me: Hey, I'm J.K. Rowling. I own Harry Potter and everything related!

Friend1: AHAHAH good one. My turn to tell a joke! OK, so a Jew walks into a bar and-

Friend2: _meaning that she did not want to hear a racist joke_

No!

Friend1: _taking it as though Friend1 didn't want a Jew in a bar_

What? You don't let Jews into your bar? YOU RACIST BASTARD!!

Me: _laughing uncontrollably_

(stolen from Achmed The Dead Terrorist, search it up on Youtube it's HILARIOUS)

XXX

The Aurors section of the Ministry of Magic was quite large, and accordingly the ranks seemed to be quite diverse as to accommodate them all. And Draco Malfoy, being one of the youngest Auror's in the sector, had just been given the pleasure of a promotion. His mind, crafty and familiar with the ways of criminals, had put him at an advantage over most other Aurors. It might have also been the slightest bit of intimidation on his part that got him the job, but what was Draco Malfoy without, as his surname suggests, bad faith?

Who knew that the only son of a once very prominent Death Eater could turn out to become who he was? He still was snobbish and rude, even somewhat condescending, but still was a major asset to the Ministry of Magic.

Draco's new office was large, airy and thoroughly fit for his lifestyle. The man himself sat upon his chair, fingering his wand, flicking its tip to create silver sparks. A quill, large and extravagant, was skittering across the page in front of him, as he stared at the silver feather as though it had caused him some sort of personal injustice.

The quill stopped at the end of the seven foot roll of parchment, tentatively resting itself near the ink bottle. Draco flicked his wand and the parchment rolled up. He heated some wax, dripped it onto the parchment to seal it, and pressed his ring, which bore his insignia, into the wax to create a seal. With that, he flicked his wand and a ribbon rose to tie itself around the scroll.

Draco whistled. It was a piercing whistle, somewhat like a hunter would use to call his dog. An owl, sleek and well cared for, sped into the room with breathtaking speed. It was a Great Horned Owl, predominantly black, but with caramel and white patches here and there. Its eyes, a yellow-orange colour, seemed to mock everyone in its gaze. The owl landed on Draco's outstretched arm, and lifted its leg obediently. Draco tied the scroll onto its leg, and stroked its back. The owl, Orion was his name, nipped Draco's ear affectionately and took off. Draco watched his owl depart and sighed. An unsolicited frown appeared on his face as he sank into deep contemplation.

A nervous 'ahem' came from the direction of his now open office door. A small man, wiry and completely insignificant except for the large thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, let himself in. He tottered to Draco's desk and announced that there was someone to see him. Draco nodded and told the man that they could approach him in five minutes. The man nodded and hastily made his way out of the office, shutting the door quietly.

Draco stood up and stretched, then went to the window that enabled him to see into the reception areas. The blinds were drawn, giving him privacy. He peeked through the blinds and saw the back of an old lady.

_No doubt coming because she thought her cat had been killed by none other than Voldemort, that the subject was indeed alive again and that she should receive a full team of bodyguards for he safety, _he mused.

The old lady was let in, and Draco smiled charmingly. He showed her to a very comfortable chair and sat at his. The old lady looked around the room, and finally at Draco, who gestured that she could begin.

"You see, sir, my cat Kibbles, she's a very kind little thing, adorable with a little black patch on her little pink nose and-"

Draco had to refrain from rolling his eyes and let the lady give him a full description of Kibbles, right to its third left whisker, which was slightly bent, he was told.

He tuned in when the old dear had begun to tell him why she was here.

"-and after she ate her favourite supper, tuna casserole with diced tomato, poor Kibbles, bless her soul, went outside for a little nap. I heard a bang and a hurried outside to find my Kibbles on my doorstep, dead-"

As much as Draco felt sympathy for Kibbles' plight, he was quite tired of hearing the same story over and over again, so he politely cut in.

"Ms-" he began, his eyes darting down to the appointment sheet on the table that read _Maudie Atkinson_, "Atkinson, I am profoundly sorry. I, too, have a cat, and he is very precious to me. Now I assure you that this is not the work of a Dark Wizard, as the cat is indeed very old. The bang you heard was none other than my colleague, Apparating in for his rounds. Kibbles lived a good life, from what you have told me, and is now probably at peace. Would Kibbles want you to fret over this incident? I assure you not."

Draco tried hard to keep a straight face throughout his speech. The old bat patted his cheek after a fresh bout of tears, bought his story without a doubt and went along her merry way, probably going to buy Kibbles the Second.

Draco shut his door. He was always on call to investigate, though, so it was a relatively dangerous job. But in the meantime, he honestly wondered why he had been given the post of reassuring clients that Dark Wizards weren't targeting them, but apparently he had the right 'people skills'. At that, Ron Weasley, who worked in the Sports sector of the Ministry of Magic, snorted and nearly inhaled his coffee in the process. He had come to accept _slug-breath _Weasel and _the-boy-who-wouldn't-die_ Potter, and even though he still called them childish names in his head, he graced them with nods in their direction whenever they met. Potter would openly smile, in his naïve way, and the Weasel would grunt, sounding somewhat like a moose.

Draco looked up to the ceiling and yawned. He was hungry and tired, thoroughly irritated, and on the whole in an incredibly good mood. A good mood for a Malfoy anyway.

XXX

Hermione picked up her wand and softly pressed the tip to the man's head, murmuring a string of spells. She ended her mutterings with the charm, 'Enervate', and the man's eyes flickered open. His pupils dilated for a few seconds before he realised where he was. Hermione began to reassure him, telling him that he had been practicing for quidditch when he took a bludger to the head. The man thanked her, and Hermione moved to her next patient, still enjoying her job as a mediwitch even after a couple of years at it.

The day sped past; she ended up arriving at her apartment at about six o'clock. She immediately took to the couch with the take-away she had bought at a muggle Chinese Restaurant. Hermione flicked through the channels of her television, and a smile formed on her face as _Friends_ started.

After laughing so hard tears had formed in her eyes, she was sorry to see the only television program that she enjoyed most end so soon. With a bored and slightly exasperated sigh, she made her way to her fireplace, threw in some green powder and shouted: "GINNY'S"

She arrived at Harry and Ginny's small cottage to find Harry playing Quidditch with Ron and Ginny hurriedly making dinner. Her baby bump was more obvious these days, as she tottered around, getting irritated that her growing belly got in the way of everything.

Hermione could tell by the fact that Harry kept looking at the kitchen window that he felt guilty for leaving Ginny to cook, but she could also tell by the stubborn look on Ginny's face that she had forced Harry outside.

Hermione's chuckle seemed to get the attention of Ginny, who turned around and squealed. Hermione made her way to Ginny, and after giving her a hug, said a brief hello to Harry and Ron before coming back inside.

She immediately began helping Ginny, who initially refused, but eventually gratefully accepted.

"So," began Ginny, "how are things with Oliver?"

Hermione was presently dating a rapt Oliver Wood, both being conservative and determined people they complemented each other well. Hermione went a rather attractive shade of pink as Ginny mentioned his name. Ginny noticed this and began teasing Hermione, making her turn even more red until she reached a mauve colour, which was when Harry and Ron walked in.

Taking one look at her flushed face, Harry said:

"What happened Hermione? Is something wro-"

And Ron interjected with:

"Did you run a marathon?"

And then:

"Is something choking you?"

Ending with:

"Did Wood do this to you?"

Ginny was beside herself with laughter, which made Harry gather her into his arms in an effort to calm her down, as if the pressure of laughter would somehow hurt the baby. Hermione looked quite indignant, but at the sight of the hysterical Ginny, her face broke out into a smile also. She always knew who to come to for a good time.

After a prolonged dinner, Hermione didn't bother using the Floo and instead Apparated back to her apartment. She peeled off her clothes and slipped into a pair of tracksuit pants and a hooded jumper and made her way outside. She loved to have midnight jogs and loved seeing the stars twinkle merrily in the canvas of the indigo night sky. She loved the moon that hung at such a haphazard angle; with the soft light it radiates illuminating everything around her.

She arrived at the park and began her routine jog, her breath coming out in smoky puffs, and a pang of remembrance shot through her.

She involuntarily made a smoke ring out of her visible breath, her insides knotting up as she watched it slowly dissipate into the night air. She had practiced, remembering how Draco Malfoy had blown them, until she got it right. She stopped and sat, straight onto the wet grass, and covered her face with her hands. It seemed that wherever she went the memory of him haunted her.

XXX

Draco crawled into his bed, achingly tired after his day of work, to find that he simply couldn't go to sleep. He let out a frustrated groan, which startled his cat, Stella. She was a beautiful creature, he hadn't been lying when he told the old lady that his cat was very precious to him.

Her soft fur was a mixture of black, caramel, white and a chocolate brown, somewhat like his owl, Orion. But she was quite the opposite of his powerful Great Horned Owl; she was a tortoiseshell Burmese kitten, only about a year old. She was inquisitive and incredibly clever, but very quiet and loved Draco dearly.

But the sight of her pained him. Draco Malfoy had bought her about four months before, on impulse, when at a Muggle pet shop. He was there because he needed a bigger bird cage, as Orion was growing.

He took one look at her and bought her, even though Draco normally didn't work on impulse.

Stella pained Draco because the cat reminded him of Hermione. Stella's submissiveness, her love, her cleverness, everything seemed to match. Draco groaned again, and Stella curled up next to her master, closing her eyes and falling asleep.

After a few moments Draco was asleep too, dreaming of a girl in a floaty white dress, her brown hair in controlled tendrils, a pair of expertly Transfigured wings attached to her back, but as he walked closer to her, the farther she seemed.

XXX

**Author's Note: I know, I know. Corny, you may call it. I completely agree.**

**Oh, and if you wanted to see the pictures that inspired me to create Draco's pets, visit these links (you have to take off all spaces in between):**

Orion: http : / / www . tulsawalk . com / birding / images / hornowl1 . jpg

Stella: http : / / www . home . comcast . net / debstgeorge / ojosazules2 . JPG

**the site wont let me write this, but before the 'debstgeorge' part there is a little squiggle, the one you get when you press Shift and the key to the left of the '1' key on your keyboard. you will have to type it in youself. wow... so confusing...**

**Oh yeah. REVIEW.**


	9. Author Note!

Oh, My, God!

I am so so sorry guys! I gave up on this fic for a while because of exams and everything, and then i figured I don't really even have any reviews, so no one likes it, but then I have all you guys and I'm so sorry and I should stop... talking... and start writing another chapter!

SORRY SORRY SORRY!!!

my last review was SIX MONTHS AGO! I DIDNT EVEN GET A NOTIFICATION! BLAME IT ON ! just kidding, don't do that.. i'll be sued...

right.. onto that chapter...


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